


How You Get the Girl

by Chash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Friends With Benefits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 23:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3956446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Clarke hooks up with Bellamy, it's because of her stupid genetics class, and then it just keeps happening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How You Get the Girl

The first time Clarke hooks up with Bellamy, it's because of her stupid fucking genetics class.

"This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me," she tells him. They're at the library, and she's face down on her open textbook, with a headache. She's so stressed she thinks she might actually start losing hair.

Bellamy pats her. "Then you're pretty lucky, if you think about it."

Clarke turns to him and smiles a little. "Okay, point. My dad dying was the worst. But this might be second. I have a problem set and a test, I still haven't done my art homework, and I _hate_ genetics. I'm going to--"

Bellamy glances around, and then scoots closer to her. "You _really_ need to relax."

"You don't say."

"Want me to get you off?"

Clarke jerks up, surprised, but Bellamy looks totally placid and unconcerned, like this is a normal thing to offer. Maybe it is for him. He's a lot more casual about sex than she is, always has been; she met him freshman year because he hooked up with her roommate, and her roommate left before he woke up. She came home to a boy in boxers making notes in her copy of _Oedipus Rex_ , and somehow they turned that into friendship.

"In the _library_?" she asks, and he snorts.

"No one's around. You'll feel better."

Clarke hasn't gotten laid in a few months, and she is kind of stressed, and Bellamy's probably good at it. She's not convinced it's a good idea, but it sounds kind of--hot. She's getting wet thinking about it. "Yeah, okay," she says, and his eyes widen, like he wasn't expecting her to take him up on it. "What?" she asks. "Don't tell me that was just talk."

He laughs. "Full of surprises, huh, Griffin?" He slides his chair right next to hers and nuzzles her jaw, making her shiver. "Keep studying, you've got shit to do." And then he slides his hand down to undo the button on her jeans and start rubbing her clit while he presses hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses to her neck. Clarke tries to read for about thirty seconds before she just leans back, closes her eyes, and lets Bellamy take care of her.

"Okay," she says, shaky, after she comes. "You were right. That did help."

He grins. "See? Do your problem set."

She thinks it's probably supposed to be weird, because none of her other friends have ever spontaneously gotten her off in a library, but it's not. Bellamy acts like nothing happened, and maybe nothing really did. Maybe this is a standard service he offers. Clarke files it away with good orgasm memories (possibly best orgasm memory) and moves on.

Except two weeks later, her vibrator breaks down right as she's starting to get very invested in her orgasm, and she can't make it work again. She thinks about finishing herself with her fingers, but Bellamy's room is just down the hall, so she pulls on her pajama bottoms and goes to see him instead.

He's rumpled and tired-looking, hair in disarray, wearing his glasses instead of his contacts, and she can see piles of books on his desk. History paper, she remembers. "Hey," he says, frowning. "Everything okay?"

She slips into the room and pushes the door shut behind her. "My vibrator broke."

"Did you want to have a funeral for it in the middle of the night?" he asks, wary. "Because I feel like that could wait for morning."

"I was hoping you could take a study break and help me out," she says.

He snorts. "Is this a booty call? Are you coming to me for a booty call?"

"It's faster than setting up a tinder account. Unless you've got too much work to do."

He glances over his shoulder at his computer. "No, that actually sounds great. My brain's about to leak out my ears. What do you want?"

She sits down on his bed. "Dealer's choice."

"Awesome," he says, tugs off her pajamas and underwear, and goes down on her. Clarke hasn't had anyone go down on her for like a year, and it's actually her favorite thing, and Bellamy is fucking _great_ at it. So, so much better than her vibrator. 

"What about you?" she asks, vaguely, once he's finished. Life is _awesome_. "Don't you want me to do something?"

"Nah," he says. "You can owe me one."

"I owe you two," she says. "Well, three, maybe. Fuck. You're awesome, Bell."

"I am, yeah," he says, going back over to his desk. "Are you just going to pass out in my bed?"

"Do you mind?"

"I'm going to spoon you if you do," he says. "But if that's cool, go ahead."

"Cool," she says, and snuggles into his pillow.

She wakes up with him curled around him, and his morning wood against her ass. She twists around and pokes his chest. "Wake up."

"Why?" he asks, making a face. "You're the worst. I don't have class until noon."

"Well, I have class in an hour," she says. "But if you've got a condom, I'll help with that before I go."

He pauses. "Okay, yeah," he says, fumbling toward his desk and grabbing a condom. He strips down quickly, and she watches with open admiration. He's all tanned skin and lean muscle, dick that makes her mouth water, and she pushes him down, rolls the condom down, and climbs on top of him. He grins. "You're pushy, you know that?"

"You like being pushed around," she says, lining him up and biting her lip as he slides inside her. He settles his hands on her hips and it's fast and hot, totally perfect morning sex. Afterward, they go to the dining hall, and Bellamy steals bites of pancake off her plate, casual and easy, like every other breakfast they've ever had together.

She gives him a handjob after he strikes out at a party, and he eats her out in the library bathroom when she's studying for her genetics final. Raven's sorority has a mixer and they end up fucking hard and fast in a closet, mostly by accident. They don't kiss, and she's not sure if that's a purposeful thing, or just a coincidence. She feels embarrassed bringing it up, though, so she keeps quiet; the sex is fucking amazing, she doesn't need to get greedy. It's not like they're together.

It really, really should be weird, but he gives her a hug before she leaves for winter break and just says, "See you next year, Griffin," the same as always. She tells herself it's nice, that things haven't changed. It _is_.

*

 **Bellamy:** How's home?

 **me:** the usual. i told mom i hate genetics and i don't want to go to med school

 **Bellamy:** Ouch.  
And?

 **me:** it's a phase, i'm just stressed, i'll get over it, etc etc let's go to dinner with the mayor you always liked his son wells and did you know he's single

 **Bellamy:** Did you know that?

 **me:** we're facebook friends, so yes

 **Bellamy:** Better get on that.

 **me:** if she tries to hook me up with anyone i am going to throw myself into traffic

 **Bellamy:** Not to agree with your mother, but you do seem pretty stressed.

 **me:** imagine how much less stressed i'd be if i wasn't taking genetics

 **Bellamy:** You're not anymore. It's over! You survived! What are you even taking next semester?

 **me:** some fucking terrible chemistry course  
fuck pre-med

 **Bellamy:** Sucks to be you.

 **me:** i know right  
want to have skype sex?

 **Bellamy:** Has anyone ever told you you're kind of a horndog?

 **me:** nope  
literally no one says that  
it's just you  
so, yes or no?

 **Bellamy:** I'm logging in now.

*

She goes to a New Year's party with some of her high school friends, and it pretty much sucks. The music is terrible, she doesn't really like any of these people, and even the very hot brunette who wants to make time with her doesn't manage to catch her attention. She tries not to think about why, but she goes home at one and immediately calls Bellamy, so she's not sure what she thinks she's denying.

"No party?" he asks. He always spends New Year's at home with his baby sister, a tradition she can't help but find endearing.

"It sucked, I came home early. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year." There's a pause, and then he says, "Get a kiss?"

"Nah. How's your sister?"

"Asleep. Or at least in her room, not talking to me. Fifteen is apparently the age where hanging out with her brother for New Year's starts feeling pathetic instead of cool."

"Sucks for you." There's a pause, and she thinks about asking if he misses her, if he's hooked up with anyone since they started doing this. Instead she says, "So, if I was there, I would definitely blow you."

He laughs. "Anyone ever tell you you're bad at phone sex, Griffin?"

"I've never had phone sex."

"Okay, well, you _always_ start with _so, what are you wearing?_ That's the universally agreed on signal to start to phone sex. And I'm wearing boxers and a t-shirt, just so you know."

"Which one?"

" _So bad at phone sex_ ," he teases, laughing. "You're supposed to tell me to take it off. It's a Red Sox shirt. What are you wearing?"

"T-shirt and those strawberry pajama shorts you love making fun of me about."

"Awesome, take them off."

Clarke strips her clothes off obediently. "Did you take yours off?"

"Yeah."

"What would you do to me if I was there?"

He hums. "I liked watching you get yourself off the other day. I'd love to see that in person."

Clarke traces her nipple with her thumb, absent, thinking about his hot gaze on her through the computer, the intent way he watched her every movement. "I guess I never saw much point in that," she admits. "Why would I go solo when I've got someone else around to help?"

"I love when girls watch me," Bellamy says. "Even better when they tell me what to do."

"Was that a hint?"

"You're not watching me."

"No, but I could tell you what to do."

He makes a soft noise, and she walks him through everywhere she wants to touch, every jerk of his hand on his dick, and after he does the same for her. She's lying on the bed, post-coital and half asleep, when he says, soft, "If I was there, I would have kissed you at midnight." She doesn't know what to say, and the moment stretches. Finally, he says, "Anyway. Night."

"I would have too," she blurts out, raw.

She hears his smile in his voice. "Night, Clarke."

The next morning, she calls Raven.

"Did you know I've been hooking up with Bellamy for months?" she asks.

"I thought you'd been hooking up for Bellamy for years," says Raven. "It's recent?"

"We started just--fooling around."

"You? Fooling around?"

"He offered to get me off in the library, I didn't really think he'd do it. And then we just kind of--kept doing it."

"And now you're like, oh, I'm in love with him, I am literally the last person on earth to have noticed this. There are hermits living in remote deserts who know you're in love with Bellamy, Clarke. Astronauts know. Babies know, and they don't even have object permanence."

Clarke closes her eyes and flops back on the bed. "Does he know?"

There's a long pause, and Raven says, "The second to last person on earth to notice. He's a fucking _idiot_."

She bites her lip, but has to ask. "And am I the last person on earth to notice he's in love with me?"

"I'm pretty sure he knows, so yeah. Last person on earth for that one."

Clarke sighs. "So, I should be happy, right?"

"Is the sex good?"

"Amazing."

"Then yes. You should be fucking happy. And it's fucking _ten a.m._ , I'm going back to sleep."

*

Clarke hasn't ever really felt shy around Bellamy, not even when she maybe should have, the first time they met, when he was a mostly naked stranger in her room marking up her textbook. But she has no idea what she's supposed to do with this.

In the end, he's back at the dorms before she is, and his door is open, so she just goes over after she drops off her stuff and pulls the door shut behind her.

"Hey," he says, giving her a brilliant smile, and she sits down in his lap and kisses him. She hasn't kissed him before, and she's willing to admit now that she really, really wanted to.

He slides his hands up her back and kisses back, but it's still hesitant and cautious, like he's holding back. _Literally the last person on earth_ , she thinks, and pulls back to smile at him. "I didn't hook up with this girl at New Year's," she says.

"Sorry?" he offers, wary.

"I like your bed better than mine, you're my best friend, I missed you like hell the whole time we were on break, I kept thinking, _can I text him again, am I texting him too much, can I call if I don't want to have sex, how do I make this happen_ , because I'm actually bad at liking people this much."

Bellamy's smiling now. "Better or worse than you are at phone sex?" he teases.

"I don't know. What do you think?"

He wets his lips, looking up at her with something like awe. "You got better at phone sex."

"Oh good, I was worried." She pauses, rests her face against his neck. "I would really love to--date, I guess? But without dating, dates are a pain. I just want to be serious about you and still have sex in weird places. I kind of like sex in weird places."

Bellamy slides his hand under her shirt and rubs her back. "I noticed." He gives her a shy smile. "I can be serious about you," he says, and then leans up to kiss her again, for real this time.

A week later, she's blowing him behind Miller's dorm, and he gasps out, "Fuck, I love you," and then freezes, like he thinks he's said something wrong.

She pulls back and rolls her eyes at him. "You're a fucking idiot, I love you too."

He pulls her up, kisses her, and fucks her right there against the building. After, he says, almost shy, "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

He licks his lips. "Awesome."

They hold hands when they walk home, and she can't help asking, "Why didn't you say anything? Ask me out or whatever."

"I did. I asked if you wanted me to get you off."

She snorts. "Something like _want to get dinner sometime_? Just a thought."

"You love me," he says, smug. "And you discovered your public sex kink. My way worked out fine."

She tucks herself into his side, pretty much forcing him to put his arm around her. He gives her a fond smile, and she probably was literally the last person on earth to notice how he looks at her. "We could have made out more," she says. "I felt like I was in _Pretty Woman_ with the total lack of kissing on the mouth."

He rolls his eyes. "Sorry about that. Do you want to come to my room and make out until you feel better about one of us maybe being an eighties hooker?"

Clarke grins. "You're such a fucking romantic, Blake."

"Yeah, yeah, you really lucked out."

It sounds a little self-deprecating, so she kisses his cheek and says, "Yeah, I really did. Come on, Julia Roberts. I would _love_ to make out."

**Author's Note:**

> Bellamy POV is available [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4039033/chapters/9084217)!


End file.
